


The Huntress

by shameless_ramblings



Series: The Returned Series [3]
Category: Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries, the originals - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blood, Crying, F/M, Fluff, Gore, Infant Death, Pregnancy, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 13:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13571391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shameless_ramblings/pseuds/shameless_ramblings
Summary: Sequel to The Returned and The Ripper. Alessandra is back hunting with the Winchesters. Something is sparking between her and Sam, but when a new threat threatens the Mikaelson's she is drawn back into a world she is desperately trying to escape.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I got Grammarly recently. It's amazing and I'm in the long process of editing all of my fics with it. I was rereading the last chapter of the last book and it was super dodgy! I am so sorry! I do plan on editing and updating everything!
> 
> xoxo

It took quite a few weeks for us to work everything out. It was difficult for me, trying to transition back into my human façade. I knew I sometimes slipped up; moving a little to fast to be entirely human, or flashing my fangs when I got frustrated.

The hotel was one of the worst ones we had stayed. Even Dean eyed the stained bedcover with disdain. He carefully peeled it back before settling into sleep, still in his shirt and jeans.  
Sam, still stood in the doorway, watched his brother a slight grimace of disgust. A loud, chainsaw-like snore ripped from Dean, and it took of Tallie's willpower not to burst out laughing. Instead, she shot Sam a look. His lips curled into a smile, and his eyes sparkled in the dark. With a jolt, Tallie realised that was probably the first time he had given her a genuine smile since he found out about… that.

* * *

  
The next day, when Sam, Dean and I were sitting in the room, drinking slimy, burnt coffee and a heart-attack-inducing breakfast, we were debating what to do next.

"Well," Dean sighed, slamming closed the laptop in front of him. "Another dead end."

I hummed from her position sprawled on her stomach on the bed. "Same."

Sam rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't think we're going to find anything about the Darkness on the web. Why don't we look for a proper case, rather than beating ourselves up about not being able to find anything."

Dean made a sound of agreement and slammed the book in front of him closed. "I'll go check the library for newspapers."

"I'll come," I added.

Sam's cheeks coloured. ''I already found one,'' he admitted. ''There's one in Charlotte, North Carolina. Possible ghost is going after brides.''

''I'm in.'' I took the laptop from him. We both looked at Dean expectantly.

''Fine,'' he grunted. The Impala roared to life, and we sped out of the carpark.  
It was a good days drive to Charlotte, so I took the opportunity to get some shut-eye. My sleep hadn't been great since I left New Orleans. I was plagued with nightmares and visions of the Mikaelson's slaughtered by some unseen enemy. It had been three weeks since the wedding. I had at least two hundred missed calls from Elijah but had taken a few from Rebekah, to reassure her I was alive, and five from Hayley, to explain my absence and to check up on her. I thought that the nightmares would peter off each time I reassured myself that they were safe but each time I was proven wrong.

''Tallie.'' Deans voice was quiet, trying not to wake a sleeping Sam.

''Yes, Dean?'' I leant forwards as to hear him more clearly.

''I know that we haven't talked much about… stuff. I just wanted to let you know that I trust you. I trust you with my life. I don't think I ever really stopped.'' He paused. ''I want to know more, about you, your life, what you can do. If that's ok with you. I don't want to push you into anything.'' He glanced back in the mirror to gauge my reaction.

I nodded. ''Thank you, Dean. I would love to. How about I talk, and if you don't want to hear about something or it's too much, just let me know, and I'll skip it or stop.'' He nodded, and I took in a deep breath. '' There are two species of vampire; the ones we usually hunt, and my kind. The 'usual' ones were created by Eve, as you know. I was created by a witch. Are you with me?'' Dean nodded. ''We each have different abilities, I guess. You know about the 'usual'. My kind is a bit different. There is the speed and strength thing. I can heal pretty much instantly unless. I can heal other people with my blood.'' I saw Deans face shift into a grimace. ''Actually, some people get high off it.''

''Really?'' Deans eyebrows shot up. ''The thought of drinking blood, sorry sweetheart but that sounds disgusting.''

I shrugged. ''Some people seem to enjoy it. I also have really good hearing. I can hear both your heartbeats and the breath in your lungs. I know you're awake, Sammy.''

Sam gave up the charade of sleep. He sat up and turned to face me. ''That's incredible. And you've always could hear like that?''

I shook my head. ''Like everything else, it gets better over time. I can tune the sounds and smells out, which is lucky. It would drive you insane if you always heard like that.'' After a moment I added, ''I never used it around you.'' I saw Sam's shoulders relax. What was he so worried about?

''What else is there?'' Dean asked.

''I have an extreme sense of smell, even for an Original vampire. That's always been a mystery to us.'' I frowned. ''I would like to know what that's about.''

I could see the cogs working in the boy's brains. It must be so weird for them, discovering a whole new side to me, as well as an entirely new species.

''How do you, you know, change?'' Sam asked excitedly, glancing back at me. I could see the curious academic side of him emerging.  
''You ingest my blood, then die. After a couple of hours, you come back in Transition. If you don't feed in 24 hours, you die… for good.''

Dean nodded but asked no more questions. He seemed content to listen to me answer the questions Sam had. They wanted to know what it was like to watch history unfold, what it was like to live in different eras, etc. After a few hours, his curiosity appeared sated, and we fell into a comfortable silence. It was almost normal. Almost.

* * *

 

Around three in the afternoon, Dean pulled into a motel. We were all sick of the car, as much as we loved Baby. The boys had won some cash during their free time in a bar in the last town, so we spent that on a hot meal and a nice, big room, with three beds. It backed on woods, which I eyed. Sam had been bugging me about the training sessions I promised him. A clearing in the forest would be perfect for what I had in mind.

A few hours later and we had finished our early dinner. Dean was passed out in front of the wall-mounted TV, Dr Sexy still playing in the background. I nudged Sam gently, careful not to wake Dean.

''Wanna do some training?'' I grinned.

He beamed back and nodded enthusiastically. I gestured from him to grab his gun and follow me. While I waited for Sam, I scouted the forest. About half a mile into the dense trees was a clearing about 100 yards in diameter. I sped back to the carpark. Sam was already standing there looking around for him.

''Come on, Sammy.'' I grinned when he jumped and spun around to face me.

''Where...what... how…?'' he stuttered. I grinned again and gestured for him to follow me.

''Better get used to it, Sammy. You'll be seeing a lot more of that in a sec.'' I walked off towards the woods. We wound our way through the trees and made it to the clearing. Both Sam and I took off our jackets, laying them on a nearby boulder.

''Take out your gun.'' I gestured to the weapon tucked into his waistband. He did so without question, and I reached forward to grab it. Placing it on the ground behind me I faced Sam again.

''When we trained and practised before, I restrained myself only to use the strength a human would. Now, I'm not going to hold back.'' He nodded again, and I approached him slowly.

''But first, you need an appropriate weapon. Vampires can only be killed with a wooden stake to the heart or decapitation or-actually you don't want to know that one.''

He looked at me in confusion. ''Tell me; I want to know everything.''

''To kill us, you have to either remove the head or destroy the heart. Decapitation takes care of the head, but the heart can either be staked or removed.'' Sam grimaced.

''As in ripping it out?'' He frowned.

I nodded. ''Don't worry about that though; you don't have the strength or speed for that. Even a baby vamp is faster than you.''

''Ok. Teach me how to stake.'' I nodded and grabbed two nearby fallen branches, both about a foot long. I handed him one and placed the other on the ground.

''Hit me in the chest.'' He frowned, then after a moment stepped forwards, branch extended to where I was. In the blink of an eye, I was gone.  
I reappeared behind him, grinning. I leant forward and tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around, 'stake' whirling. I jumped out of the way and appeared by his shoulder. He grunted and tried again. And again. Each time I reappeared, he swung. Each time, I jumped out of the way only to appear behind or next to him.

We continued for a few minute before I finally said, ''Enough.'' Sam dropped his hand with a huff, inhaling lungfuls of air. A sheen of sweat had appeared on his forehead while I was mostly unaffected.

''That's amazing.'' He panted, grinning.  
  
I smiled and, as selfish as it was, it felt good not to have to hide around them. ''It's still possible for you to hit me. Learn my patterns, discern where I'm going to appear.'' He nodded, and we began again. This time, I saw him watching me more closely. His swings became less wild, more deliberate and coordinated. I saw him watching me more closely, judging where I was appearing. After a minute or so he made contact. The stake slid into my chest, just shy of my heart.

I grunted, and Sam leapt back.

''Shit!'' He exclaimed. ''Tallie, I'm so sorry! I didn't think that it would be that easy! God. What should I do?''

''Sam.'' I grabbed his arm. ''I'm fine just give me a minute.''

His eyes darted down to my chest, where the stake was sticking out obscenely. He watched as I reached up, wrapping my hands around the stake. With a huff I pulled, removing the stake from my chest. I let out a small sound when the stake slid out, leaving behind a single splinter. I could feel it sitting just below one of my right ribs. I threw the stake down, bloody end glinting in the fading sunlight.

''You might want to turn around, there a splinter and I have to dig it out,'' I warned. When he didn't move, I shrugged. ''Your funeral.'' With one hand, I dug my fingers into the cut, to prevent it closing. With the other, I reached in, grasping the end of the splinter and pulling it carefully out of the wound. Sam watched in horrified fascination as the skin closed over the wound. The only evidence it had even been there was the hole in my shirt, stained red around the edges with blood.

''I see what you mean about the healing.'' He let out an awkward laugh.

''It does come in handy,'' I admitted. ''Ready to try again?''

He glanced up at me, uncertainty in his eyes. ''Are you sure? I mean… I just stabbed you.''

I shrugged. ''I've suffered worse. Much worse.''  
Sam's brow furrowed. ''Like, how much worse?''  
My silence was my answer. He let out a breath.

''Wow. That's, umm. I don't know what to say to that.''

''There's nothing to say. It's been a long millennium, Sammy.'' I gave him a small smile.

''I see.'' He frowned again.

''Do you want to keep going?'' I asked.

''Sure. Just, can we do it without the stakes?''  
He gave a weak laugh.

''Sure.'' I grinned. ''Hand-to-hand is my forte.''  
Sam groaned. ''So you're going to hand me my ass?''

I nodded, laughing. ''Just pick out my patterns. Everyone has them. You can use it to see their next move and intercept before they can strike. You can also use it to recognise your own; you can learn to change it so that your opponent can't use your tactic against you.''  
He nodded. I threw the first punch, a soft, slow one that he quickly dodged. The next punch was followed by a kick. I avoided both and threw my own. After a minute, he started blocking me. Each time he succeeded I increased my speed or strength, putting more pressure on him. After about 5 minutes he changed tactics; he barred one of my punches and pulled my arm to his chest, taking me with it. When we stilled, we were back-to-chest, my arms crossed in front of me, held securely there by his hands.

I grinned. ''Very good, Moose.'' With a grunt of effort, I flipped him over my back, using his weight to my advantage. We thudded to the grassy ground, me sitting on his chest, pinning him there.

''Don't. Call. Me. Moose.'' He panted, grinning. I smiled down at him, and something fluttered in my chest… wait, what?

Sam used my distraction to his advantage and flipped us over. Now he pinned me to the ground; his hands were wrapped around my wrists, and his legs wound though mine, rendering me immobile. His face was inches above mine, and I found my gaze dipping down to his lips.

I had never realised how kissable they looked; soft and pink and full. My heart did the flutter thing again when I glanced up at his eyes. They were another thing I hadn't studied; at first glance, they look green, but closer inspection revealed the blue and brown around the pupil, which were ringed in gold.

I saw his eyes flick downwards; was he looking at my lips?


	2. Chapter 2

A breath passed from his mouth, and then he leant down. Our lips made contact, and we exhaled together. They were so soft and gentle. I felt him shift and our bodies pressed together. My now freed hands wound around his neck and twisted though his hair. Using my speed, I flipped us over to that I was on top. Sam's back hit the ground, and my hands went to brace on the earth by his head. I tightened my thighs around his hips, and I groaned.

 Our kisses grew rougher, and he sat up, pushing me with him. He kissed my neck as I caught my breath. His teeth grazed my pulse point, and I moaned.

He groaned when I shifted on his lap. ''Room?''

 "Yes. I'll grab our jackets.'' I sped over to the boulder, grabbed both them and the bloody stake and was back at Sam's side in a second. I grabbed his hand and sped us back to the hotel. Within a minute we were stumbling through the door, lips connected.

''What the-guys!'' Dean yelled.

Sam and I leapt apart, blushing.

 ''Oh, god. Dean! I'm so sorry.'' I stuttered. Sam shifted uncomfortably beside me. Dean strode past us, muttering.

''Stay off my bed,'' Dean growled and slammed the door behind him. In an instant Sam was shoving me against the wall again, the jackets and stake were long forgotten on the floor by the door.

''Bed. Now.'' I rumbled, tearing off his shirt. He growled in agreement, picking me up by the back of my thighs and carrying us to the bed. 

* * *

 

The next morning Sam and I couldn't keep our hands off each other. When I reached up to grab the cereal box, he wrapped his hands around my waist and kissed up and down my neck until I was out of breath from giggling. While he was brushing his teeth in the bathroom mirror, I pressed my face into his back, inhaling his scent.

I was so happy. Finally, I didn't wake up thinking about Elijah or the Mikaelson's or hiding my supernatural abilities from Sam and Dean. I felt relaxed and… happy.

Dean practically had to drag us from the room and into the Impala, continually reminding us that it wasn't a honeymoon, but a case. It didn't take long to find the ghost killing brides.

Henry McAvoy was ditched at the altar in 1886 by his wife-to-be. In his grief, he jumped from a nearby bridge. The graveyard where he had been buried was recently robbed, and his body was removed which was probably the reason that his ghost was suddenly active after all these years.

Careful research had revealed that the stolen body had been incinerated. Therefore, something else was tying him here.

''I found it!'' I exclaimed, only to be hushed by a passing librarian. We were in the public library, looking at the will of Henry. Everything he owned was destroyed in a fire which ripped through the fire where his belonging had been stored.

Everything except a wedding band, the one he was supposed to give to his runaway bride.

Sam and Dean studied the picture attached to the document. ''I've seen that before,'' Dean whispered. ''Where did I see it?'' he thought for a minute before slamming his hand down on the table loudly, earning another glare from the librarian. ''The museum. The old one on the way into town. I saw it when I was interviewing the victim's father; he works there.'' 

''That's great, except for one thing.'' Sam's brow furrowed. ''That wedding minister I talked to, she just texted me. There are no weddings planned for the next three months. That means that Henry is probably guarding that ring. We can't get anywhere near it without a distraction.''

Both boys looked at me. ''I'm said distraction?'' I guessed. 

''Well, I sure as hell aren't dressing up in white.'' Dean scoffed. 

''Only if you're ok with it.'' Sam glared at Dean, before turning back to me.

I nodded. ''Better me than someone who can't heal quickly.''

 ''Settled then.'' Dean nodded.

 ''Are you sure you're ok with this?'' Sam asked for the millionth time. We were in a discount bridal and formal store. I was trying on my fifth wedding dress of the day. We’d decided that I needed to look the part to trick McAvoy.

 I flattened my hands down the puffy skirt of the dress and grinned at him. ''Of course, I am. It's not every day I get to be a bride.'' I studied my reflection in the mirror, a small frown on my face. ''I can't run in any of these.''

 The assistant frowned at me. ''Will that be necessary on your wedding day?'' Her nasal voice set my nerves on edge.

 I gave her a fake grin. ''It's part of the ceremony.''

 She nodded, thinking. ''Well, you could maybe go for a short dress. Most women prefer the longer styles, but-''

 ''No,'' I interrupted. _Please stop talking_. ''I'll try a short dress.'' She nodded and hurried off.

 ''You look beautiful.'' I smiled and gave Sam a spin and a smile.

 ''You think?'' the poofy skirt was itchy on my legs, but I had to admit, I did love it. ''Thank you.''

 ''You've never done this before?''

I shook my head at Sam's reflection. ''Never had the chance to.''

''There was no one…?'' He trailed off, suggesting.

 I studied the lace on the bodice. ''You don't want an answer to that.''

 ''Yes I do.'' Sam insisted, coming to stand in front of the platform I was on. ''I want to know everything about you, no surprises.''

 ''Are you sure?'' I looked him in the eye, searching for any sign he wasn't. I found none.

 ''I am.'' He assured.

 ''Ok.'' I agreed. ''Can I tell you tonight?'' 

''Sure thing.'' He took my hands, pulling me gently down to his height. My hand slid up his arm and onto the side of his neck. We kissed, lips moving smoothly together. His hands slid around my waist, gently fingering the lace of the dress.

A pointed cough parted us. Sam blushed and stepped back. The assistant glared at him until he took his original seat. I sighed and faced her.

'Here are the dresses.'' She handed me three coat hangers. ''Do you need help getting out of that one.''

I shook my head and walked into the changing room. The top was instantly my favourite; it was 50's design, with capped sleeves and a skirt that begun right under my bust. The seams around the waist meant that it followed my body shape and didn't look blocky.

When I stepped out, the assistant didn't make any snide remarks.

I studied my reflection. It was stunning, and everything I had dreamed of for my wedding dress. It was beautiful and unique and… perfect. I had never thought I would even get this close to a wedding.

''Wow.'' Sam breathed. I did a slow spin on the platform, studying the dress.

''This one.'' I decided. ''This is the one.''

Instantly, the assistant was all business. Her voice was an endless stream of prices and layby and delivery.

''How much?'' I interrupted, not caring if she had already told me the price.

''It's $250.'' Sam and I grimaced. ''But… I'll drop it down to $100. It's been here for ages, and nobody wants a short wedding dress.''

Sam grinned. ''We'll take it.''


End file.
